Anatefka
by Lady Josephina
Summary: A feral child living on an uninhabitted island in the Seine finds her first human friend. The bellringer of Notre Dame. Could he help her find happiness and even a family? Disney version
1. Chapter 1

Paris at daybreak. The sun rose slowly into the cold sky, melting the the thin veneer of frost. A shadowy woman enveloped in swaths of scarves crept among the piles of vagrants snoozing by the city gates. Her hands feverishly clutching a bundle to her chest.

"_You there, gypsy! What are you hiding!"_

The hostile bark of soldiers shattered the early morning quietude. Frantically the woman tried to explain herself. But her language was like nothing the guards had heard before. With armed men advancing on her, there was only one thing for the nomad to do.

Run and not look back.

The soldiers pursued the cloaked woman like a pack of wolves. She ran blindly from street to street until finally she was snared. But the young nomad would not go without a fight. She kicked, punched and clawed against her pursuers, not caring an inch about being out numbered.

Suddenly with a gurgling sob, the woman went limp. A soldiers dagger stood firmly in her ribs sorrounded by a growing red blot.

The woman's life came to an end that morning.

"These gypsy wenches fight like mongrels!" a soldier chortled.

"So what was she hoarding?"

It was then the soldiers finally realized their mistake. The bundle she had been carrying began to stir and cry. Not bothering to look at what was inside, the bundle was quickly dropped off at a foundling home.

* * *

The child was three years old but could not walk, speek or feed herself. She was unnaturally small for her age, with sickly yellow skin and whispy black hair. A thin, feeble excuse for a toddler.

A Sister at the foundling home taught the girl to walk and eat, but getting her to talk poved futile. The little girl refused to speak or to engage the other children. Much of her day was spent sitting in a corner staring into nothingness.

A year later, she ran away from foundling home in search of a better place to live. At such a tender age, she knew no one would claim her.

Off the most northern coast of Ile de la Cite, another crumb of land inhabbited the Seine. Though uninhabitted, the people of Paris used Ile de Saint Louis as a mooring post for their boats.

After hitching a ride on a piece of driftwood, the child reached the island.

For a short time she lived off roots, berries and other plants. But soon she moved on to lizards and rodents. As years passed, the animals came to know her as a fellow creature. But the beasts that truly came to know her were the feral dogs. They welcomed her into their world. Teaching her to hunt, ambush, and even their language. From then on, the girl spoke only in growls, barks and whines.

They even gave her a name.

To a human, it was a series of stacatto growls. But through the animal ear it was "Anatefka". The dogs and other animals had names such as "Liviat", "Palai", "Eldera" and so fourth. But Anatefka's favorite dog was her own. A cub whom she adopted. The one she called Demone.

Though Anatefka had fully joined the animal kingdom, the world of humans still had its uses.

Every night the girl and her dogs would swim across the river to the city, where they would raid the garbage laden streets for scraps. Nestled in the shadows, the savage child would gnaw on a peice of gristle while her comrades searched for more morsels. But at any unfamiliar sound, the hunting party would turn tail and run back to the safety of the isle.

* * *

From the spiny towers of the Palace of Justice, a lone figure looked out at the small Isle. He was none other than judge Claude Frollo. Squinting against the glare, he spotted a child drinking from the river. But instead of using a cup, she knelt down on all fours. Lapping up the water like a dog.

"She's a savage. I've seen her before" he told one of his captains. "She crosses the river every night to raid the rubbish."

"How will we know where to find her when she comes ashore?"

"I dont think it should be that hard" the Judge scoffed. "Just follow the smell."


	2. Chapter 2

In the dark of the night a shrill screech resonated through the city. Anatefka plowed through the streets, bounding over anything in her path. Two soldiers on horse-back thundered behind the child in hot pursuit. Each armed with nets and lassos.

"She's cornered! Move in!"

Suddenly the woven trap fell over Anatefka like a web. She clawed and snapped against her captors, but there was nothing she could do. Try as she might, she was powerless as her hunters dragged her back to the Palace of Justice.

With guards at the door and window, Frollo studied the caged girl. Screeching like a demon, she threw herself against the bars over and over.

"She is possessed" Frollo said to himself quietly.

Anatefka was indeed a strange girl. The child was unusually small for a nine year old and didn't look an inch higher than four feet. She was nude except for body paint made from mud. She was absolutely filthy, reeking of rot and skunk cabbage. Cords of matted hair hung down to her knees. If Anatefka had been cared for properly, she would have been an adorable little girl.

"Have the Archdeacon prepare a baptismal service" Frollo said.

With much difficulty, a guard dressed her in a long baptismal dress and wrestled the child down to Notre Dame by a leash.

* * *

A small group of monks gathered in the cathedral nave as the archdeacon prepared for the ceremony. Bound to a pillar the screaming Anatefka had lapsed into a frenzy. As she screeched and fought, the archdeacon held aloft a goblet of holy water over Anatefka's head.

If only the she could escape!

Suddenly with a great burst of energy, Anatefka's wrists slipped from her bounds and she tore like mad out of the nave. A small door welcomed her into dark cool shadows.

Panting for breath, Anatefka pinned herself against the wall. Her fevered brain struggling to think of a way out.

_If I climb this hill, maybe I can see far enough to find my way home._

She kept her body low to the ground as she hiked up the winding staircase. There was no way to determine how far it went up. But the stairs seemed to go on forever.

_What are people?_

But the thought was quickly dismissed. People were a total enigma to her. To her humans were ignorant, dangerous creatures and vowed never again to scavenge the city again.

After hours of climbing, Anatefka made it to the top of the stairs.

The bell tower was like no place she had ever seen. Wooden beams jutted across the walls, creating shafts of light like trees in the forest. But it was the colossal bells that amazed Anatefka the most.

But something else caught her eye.

A gargoyle. Her head cocked to the side she cautiously approached the stone being. It's bared fangs forcing the savage child to a submissive stance. But it didn't take long for Anatefka to see the gargoyle for what it was. After sniffing the stony monster she concluded it wasn't alive and returned her attention to the bells.

Running up to the biggest bell, Anatefka placed a grubby little hand against it's bronze form. With a gentle knock, a droning vibration peeled through the entire tower.

It almost sounded like singing.

Suddenly the sound of thick footsteps echoed from the tower's roof. Somebody was coming!

* * *

Squeezing herself under a table, Anatefka watched with bated breath from her hiding place. A bulky figure entered the tower and took a seat by a shaft of sunlight. The keeper of the bells.

His oddly shaped visage held two large, beautiful eyes. Yet one was almost hidden under a large, egg-like growth. His nose looked as though some one had smashed it into his face. The mouth full of jagged, malformed teeth.

Atop his head, a lush crop of red hair that could easily put a rose to shame. Protruding from his back was an arching hump that topped off his muscular body. The face did not frighten Anatefka. But his sheer size stunned her.

Her time among wild beasts taught her never to bother anything that was bigger she. And this man looked like a giant. As Anatefka sat in silence a wisp of cobweb drifted down from the table's underside, landing deftly by her nose.

A sneeze was welling up inside and had to be released.

_Achoo!_

His brow furrowed, the bellringer went to investigate the source of the sound. Her large sinewy hands pulled away the makeshift tablecloth, revealing the terrified Anatefka.

With fear in her eyes, she remembered one of the many rules of the wilderness.

Forcing herself out, she got on all fours and bowed her head. A sign of respect among the dogs and recognition of dominance.

The bellringer had no idea what to make of the child. There was doubt in his mind concerning her untamed nature. But still there was something endearing about the little girl. Even if was buried in years of filth and savagery.

The hunchback thought of reaching a hand out to stroke her, but the notion of being bitten or clawed arose in his mind.

Slowly he went to a cupboard and brought fourth a plate of scraps. Anatefka stared a the food with confusion. It looked like the sort of food she found in the streets. But the bread and smoked meat looked far more appetizing then anything she ever came across.

Keeping at least one eye on the bellringer, Anatefka polished off the food in a matter of minutes.

"Quasimodo, its time for Evening Mass. Why are the bells silent!"

Anatefka recognized the voice immediately. Claude Frollo!

Jumping to her feet, she leapt nimbly over the balcony.

Quasimodo feared she had fallen, but was relieved to see Anatefka safely climbing down the rough cathedral walls. It amazed him to see someone just as adapt at climbing high places as he was.

Agile as a lizard, she shimmied down the columns before finally reaching the bottom. Quasimodo did not see her again for another two months.


	3. Chapter 3

Weeks passed. The famous siege of Notre Dame ignighted when the people of Paris up against Frollo and his guards. The great cathedral stood in a sea unrest as the common man fought to protect the right of Sanctuary. Molten lead spewed from the gargoyle's mouths, lighting the night sky and smoldering the old oppression.

When the siege ended, Claude Frollo was no more. Both townspeople and gypsies alike were free to live without fear.

* * *

Meanwhile on the Isle...

Deep in the wooded thicket, a den fashioned from branches and leaves stood camouflaged against the foliage. It was here Anatefka and her pack lived. Every night she snuggled up against the warm furry hides of the dogs. Her Demone snoozing under her arm. But that night sleep would not come easilly. Though the world outside the den was chilly, Anatefka was bathed in sweat. Nausea gripped her body as she tried to find a restful position. It took all her strength to keep her rancid supper from leaving it's resting place.

As her temperature rose, Anatefka's mind played games with her reality. She knew there was nothing her feral family could do for her. If she stayed on the Isle she would die.

Her nails digging into the dirt, she rose to her feet. Her legs felt as wobbly as newborn colt's. The poor girl couldn't get to the river bank without stumbling.

Not having the energy to swim, Anatefka simply drifted on a piece of flotsam. Her makeshift vessel promptly dumped off at Isle de la Cite. In her fevered induced haze Antefka crawled aimlessly through the streets not caring if she was seen. But the sight of the cathedral caused a memory to emerge from the murk.

The strange man in the tower...

Calling on all her strength, Anatefka dragged her raw body to Notre Dame. With a sickly growl she collapsed on the stone steps of the giant church. The cool breeze against her sweat brought a grain of relief as she fell into a coma-like sleep.

* * *

That next morning, Anatefka awoke with a pounding headache. But to her surprise, She was not outside on the cold pavement where she fell. With bleary eyes she took in her cozy sorroundings. A tiny room with stone walls and a solitary window. Her bed was a simple straw matress on the floor with wool blankets.

Suddenly she felt something furry rub up against her leg. It was Demone. The wild dog must have followed her inside.

Where ever "inside" was.

From the floor above she heard the faint sound of fluttering pigeons. The belltower! The domain of the being that spared her the scraps.

By her blanket was a basket containing a bottle of water, pieces of bread and a container of broth. Anatefka made short work of the bread. Ignoring the spoon she simply dumped out the broth and lapped it up from the floor. After sparing some for Demone she went to investigate her surroundings.

Through the bright sunbeams, Anatefka watched as the form of Quasimodo climbed up a giant bell. With a mighty tug, the great metal dome began to sway.

"_GONG!__"_

A deafening peel rang out through the tower. The floor vibratting under the terrific pressure from the sound.

Clutching her ears Anatefka yielded to the bell and backed away to the little room. When the great peels ceased she continued her search of the tower.

Ascending the ropes and wooden pilings, she made it to the top where the hunchback perched. But instead of approaching him with growls, a soft yipping noise fluttered from her lips. In the language of her packmates, it was a sign of respect.

Now Quasimodo had no fear about touching her. With his large hand he stroked the side of her face. Anatefka returned his affection by rubbing her head against the hunchback's palm.

After nearly an hour of petting the animal-child Quasimodo went to his work table. It held a crude but lovely model of the city, including the cathedral, houses and even little wooden people. Meticuosly the bellringer carved one of Annatefka and another of Demone.

With great care he placed the two models in the cathedral where a small figurine of himself was.


	4. Chapter 4

The night was a particularly cold one. Icy breezes cut through the lofty tower like machetes. Even Quasimodo shivered under his bedclothes. In his sleep he could'nt help but consider patching up the cracks in the tower. Down in her room Anatefka clutched Demone close for warmth.

Slowly and with much difficulty, everyone managed to get some sleep.

Finally morning arrived. But there was no sunshine. Instead it was cold and gray. Freezing drizzle seeped from the clouds. It collected in large droplets on the stone statues and gargoyles that dressed the cathedral. Quasimodo awoke and immediately gasped in the cold air. Blowing on his hands he painstakingly lit a small fire in the hearth.

While waiting for the flames to grow, the hunchback went to fetch Anatefka. He knew the warmth would do her good after such a cold night.

"Oh no..."

He found the girl sprawled out on the floor in an unnatural fashion. It was hard to tell if she was even alive. Quickly Quasimodo enfolded the swaddled little creature in his arms and ventured out of the cathedral.

He had long since lost his fear of the outside world.

The bellringer had performed many courageous feats atop the dizzying heights of the cathedral.

With the help of a tiny map on a woven pendant, Quasimodo found his destination.

The Court of Miracles.

* * *

Climbing down a passage way under the false mausoleum, Quasimodo found himself once again in the old catacombs. The foul smelling, ankle-deep sewage sloshing around his feet.

Suddenly several strong hands grabbed him from behind. The Court's guards. Donned in skeleton costumes, they apprehended any trespasser that came their way.

Roughly they shoved the bellringer into the main hall where, seated atop a raggety old chair, was the King of Beggars himself.

Clopin Troullifou.

"And just what do you think you are doing?" the gypsy king demanded. "Don't you remember Quasimodo? He helped us win the great siege!"

With that, the guards released the hunchback. As spry as a grasshopper Clopin jumped down to greet the startled hunchback.

"So what brings you here, Quasi?" Clopin chimed.

"You wouldn't happen to have an infirmary in your Court, do you?"

"Of course we do... Who's the girl?" Clopin said, glancing at Anatefka

"She's very ill. Can you help her?"

"I'll send for Nefaltia. She's our top healer. A real miracle worker."

* * *

Moments later he returned with a young woman. Warm gray eyes lit up her charming face, while a colorful scarf hid her onyx hair."Here, give her to me" Nefaltia smiled. "Don't worry, she'll be alright". Reluctantly Quasimodo handed over the child. 

"I think I know what will make you feel better" she said to the child.

Gently she placed Anatefka on a table and filled a large wooden tub with steaming water. She was as filthy as ever.

Her body was covered in dirt, grime and dried blood. The mud paint took more time to deal with but was eventually scrubbed away.

Much of Anatefka's hair was unsalvageable. It was dead, frizzy and would never be beautiful. Nefaltia's only recourse was to cut away the excess, giving her a short curly bob.

By the end of her bath, the water was the color of coal.

Toweling her off Nefaltia dressed the semiconscious Anatefka in a nightshirt and lay her to bed in the infirmary.

"She'll be alright".

* * *

For days Anatefka languished in her sickness. Her body and spirit so weak, she offered up no resistance when handled.

Every day the gentle bellringer returned to The Court to check up on his stange little friend. Taking a seat by Anatefka's cot, he would run his thick fingers through her hair.

"She's doing much better" Nefaltia reassured. "She actually managed to eat something."

Quasimodo sighed with relief.

"My guess is her illness stemmed from exposure and something she ate." she said.

The healer and the hunchback watched quietly as the wild girl stirred in her sleep. The scruffy hide of Demone curled up next to his little mistress.

"How did he get in here?" asked Quasimodo.

"The dog? Guess he followed you here" the woman mused. "So would it be safe to asume you're the girl's gaurdian?"

"Me? Oh... I dont know... I suppose, since I found her." Quasimodo stammered.

"Well if it's alright with you, I'd like to study her further" said Neflatia. "There must be a little bit of human in her somewhere."


	5. Chapter 5

As soon as Anatefka was well enough, her lessons began. Nefaltia was convinced she could teach the child to communicate. But first she had to show her the ways of humans. That meant manners, reasonable hygine, and self control. Anatefka possessed none of these virtues.

The first task was getting the girl's attention and establishing a sense of trust.

One morning while Anatefka was exploring the healer's ward, Nefaltia approached carrying a bright red ball. Quickly Anatefka darted under her cot with Demone following suit. But she never took her eyes of Nefaltia. Ignoring the child, Nefaltia began to play with the ball by herself. As she tossed and rolled the toy about, she was well aware of the little creature's growing curiosity.

"It's about time you're awake" Nefaltia said softly.

It took almost an hour for Anatefka to inch herself closer to the healer. Her eyes fixated on the ball.

"Here. You want it?"

With gentle ease Nefaltia let the toy fly from her fingers. In a snap the wild child bound after the ball. Taking a seat, the healer watched the scene with much amusement. Like an excited puppy Anatefka batted the ball around the room, enchanted by its movement. But slowly her play ground to a halt. The stranger was still in the room. Cautiously the little girl rolled the ball back to Nefaltia, trying to see what she would do next.

"Oh thankyou" Nefaltia chimed.

With exaggerated motions, the healer tossed the toy about in the air before rolling it back to Anatefka. The exchange took place several more times between Anatefka and Nefaltia. The healer glowed from the inside. In a primitive way, the wild child had grasped the idea of sharing.

* * *

The next morning, Nefaltia decided to tackle Anatefka's eatting habits. She prepared a sumptuous breakfast of porridge and baked apples, along with forks, spoons and a napkin. It didn't take long for the the savory aroma to attract the wild child.

At the sight of food Anatefka lashed out a hand but Nefaltia calmly pulled her wrist away.

The wild girl let out a loud growl and tried to continue eating. This time the whole plate was pulled away.

The cheif rule of the wild was never take food from animal while it's eatting, and Anatefka knew this well. She bared her teeth and snapped at the woman. Her ferocity even reached a point where Nefaltia had to hold the girl back with a chair.

"BAD GIRL!!! SIT DOWN!!!"

She delivered a sharp pinch on the back of Anatefka's neck.

The child became still. She had been subjected to such punishments in her pack. The adult dogs often used harmless nips as a way to discipline the pups.

To set an example Nefaltia took a seat and tucked into her own meal. Anatefka watched closely how Nefalita ate with the utensils.

Though her fingers were unused to such movements, Anatefka copied her every move. Though despite her newfound skill, she still managed to make a mess. Her face and hands were smeared with food.

"My, my, you learn quickly."

Slowly and carefully Nefaltia crept over to Anatefka in order to dab away the mess with the napkin.

With a sudden screech, the wild child squirmed away and hid for the rest of the day.

"Okay" Nefaltia mused. "We'll work on hygeine another day."

* * *

Weeks passed as Anatefka regained her strength. Nefaltia continued to observe her behavior but only from a safe distance. The wild child did not appear as frightened of The Court as Nefaltia expected. Perhaps as an oportunist, she found the underground haven a source of heat, food and security. But at the same time, Anatefka's curiosity was piqued by the comings and goings inside secret city.

That afternoon while Anatefka played in the catacombs, Nefaltia met with Quasimodo to discuss her plan.

"She's fully recovered. You can take her back with you if you wish, but on one condition."

"Yes, ofcourse" agreed the hunchback.

"She seems to have bonded with you." Nefaltia noticed. "I'd like to see how she acts when in your custody."

"Alright. But I'm not sure how she'll like it."

"I know she probably thinks I'm a ghoul after the breakfast incident. But hopefully in the belltower she'll be a little calmer."

After some thought, Quasimodo consented and the four of them made the long treck back to Notre Dame.


	6. Chapter 6

"Here we are" chimed Quasimodo. "You remember the tower, don't you, little one?"

Anatefka certainly did. She ran up to one of the large bells and began to yank on it's rope.

"You want me to ring this one?"

Anatefka answered the young man's question with even stronger tugs. The bell was begining to sway, but it didn't make a sound.

"That one's very loud. It might hurt your ears" Nefaltia offered. "What about those little ones up there?"

"Oh yes" Quasimodo agreed. "She'll like those too."

As if she weighed nothing, the hunchback swung Anatefka over his shoulder and climbed up to where the little bells hung. Their sweet songs were like a babbling brook.

Anatefka broke out in hyena-like giggles as the bells sang. But in the middle of their peals, she tugged furiously at Quasimodo's collar.

"What is it? What do you see?"

Almost urgently Anatefka gestured to the bells and then over to a pair of roosting pigeons.

"What's going on up there?" Nefaltia called from below.

"I don't know. I think she's trying to tell me something."

By now the wild child was becoming frustrated. She would swipe at the bells to get them ringing again and point to the birds.

"Oh I see. You think the bells sound like the birds" Quasimodo declared, indicating both objects.

Anatefka did not know his words, but was pleased to see that the hunchback acknowledged her comparison.

* * *

And so Nefaltia began her study. It was obvious Anatefka still had some reservation about the stranger. But after a week of living in the tower, the healer's presence no longer bothered her.

When she was not engaging the wild child in a game, Nefaltia was busy teaching Anatefka words. She would place her hand on an object and say its name slowly and clearly. Her head cocked to the side, Anatefka would watch Nefaltia with confused curiosity.

"Do you think she understands?" Quasimodo asked.

"Well she's not an idiot, that's for sure" said Nefaltia. "Her mind is trying to make sense of it. I can see it in her eyes. But she's still missing something."

"Like what?"

Carefully Nefaltia laid out three small object on the floor. A key, a chisel and a nail.

"Watch this."

Nefaltia whistled to Anatefka and the child came bounding over.

"Key" Nefaltia annunciated. "Keeeeyyyy... Show me the key."

For what felt like hours, Anatefka sat before the three objects. Every so often she would pick up an item and examine its contours. Even mouthing them between her teeth.

Finally she came to a decision. With a look of confidence, she slid the nail towards Nefaltia.

"Nnnooo... That's not the key. Try again."

She pushed the scrap of metal back to Anatefka. But the wild girl refused to be corrected. Grunting urgently she thrust the nail at Nefaltia.

"No, little one. That's the nail. Find me the key."

By now Anatefka frustration was mounting to a peak. Unable to see the child so upset, Quasimodo knelt down and placed the desired object in her hand.

"Here. This is the key. See how its different from the nail?"

With a furrowed brow, Anatefka compared the key and the nail in each hand. For a brief moment of happiness Nefaltia thought the girl finally understood. But the feeling soon shattered when Anatefka threw down both the objects and ran out to the balcony. Quasimodo and Nefaltia did not feel the need to chase after her.

"I suppose we should have started off more simply." Nefaltia conceded.

"Perhaps" said Quasimodo. "Just give her some time to calm down. She'll get it eventually."

* * *

After the failure of their first lesson, Nefaltia returned to observing the girl. But it was her moods that concerned her the most.

Some days Anatefka appeared overwhelmed with euphoria. Her favorite game was twirling around in a shaft of sunlight, watching the skirt of her dress flutter. When she became too dizzy, the girl would collapse on the floor. But as soon as the symptom subsided, she went right back to her strange little dance.

But Anatefka's days of joy were also peppered with long periods of sorrow. She would sit curled up in a corner of the tower, rocking back and fourth. Her head lightly bumping against the stone wall. Even when Quasimodo held her in his arms, Anatefka's spirits showed no signs of lifting.

Taking a seat next to her charge Nefalita mimicked Anatefka's movement, then made a simple hand gesture.

"Sad" Nefaltia said slowly.

Slowly she repeated the motions repeated the motions several times. At first the wild girl was suspicious. But after several viewings, Anatefka's hand followed Nefaltia's sign. Her little finger sliding down her face in representation of a tear.

"Oh my!" Quasimodo gasped. "She did it! I think she understood you."

"I hope so. But even if she's just imitating, at least she's paying attention."


	7. Chapter 7

Night time came quickly in the belltower. Anatefka lay curled up in a straw mattress on the floor. Her arm draped over Demone's spotted hide. Though she was exhausted by the day's lessons, Nefaltia was wide awake. She sat silently next to the sleeping child. Her fingers gently snaking through Anatefka's hair. 

Suddenly a dark spot on the child's scalp caught her eye. Intrigued, Nefaltia brushed back a lock of hair to reveal a small birthmark. The size of a coin, the pigmented flesh resembled a half moon with a little star beside it.

* * *

"Quasi! Quasimodo, wake up. I need to show you something!"

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, the hunchback hauled himself into a sitting position. The bleary image of Nefaltia slowly fading into view.

"What is it?" he yawned.

Not bothering to answer, Nefaltia dragged the drowsy bellringer to Anatefka and showed him the birthmark.

"So? I've seen people with marks like that before."

"Its not that" Nefaltia huffed. "My sister's baby girl had the same mark in the exact same place!"

There was a heavy silence in the tower as Nefaltia let the revelation sink in.

"So what your saying is... This child is your niece?"

By now, Nefaltia had sank to her knees. Tears silently streamed down her cheeks in rivers. How could she have missed such a distinguishing spot? Even when she cut Anatefka's hair, the birthmark escaped her.

_Could it be?_

"Nefaltia" Quasimodo spoke up "What happened between you and your sister?"

* * *

For the first time in years. Nefaltia forced herself to talk about the past.

"I wasn't born a gypsy" Nefaltia began. "My sister Sabine and I are Turkish. My father was a spice and textile trader from Istanbul."

Quasimodo's eyes widened.

Frollo had as much hate for the Turks as he did for gypsies. Many times the bellringer was privy to his master's rants against "the Godless invaders".

"They are nothing but debauched heathens!" The minister would bellow. "I have it on the highest authority that their Sultan likes nothing better then wallow in a den of vice and depravity. Harems, Quasimodo! They are the devil's brothels!"

Frollo spoke with such conviction. In his youth, Quasimodo knew nothing but to believe his guardian's words. But in the end, master had been wrong about so many things.

Nefaltia and Sabine were the only children of Mehmed Amere. His wife had died of fever some years ago, leaving him with two daughters to raise. Though the family pushed him to remarry, Mehmed never took another wife.

The Amere patriarch was a kind and doting father, who valued his girls as much as any son. But the tranquil family came under turmoil when Sabine revealed a troubling condition. 

"My sister was ravaged by an intruder" Nefaltia shuddered. "When it was discovered she was with child, the family wanted nothing to do with her. She was a disgrace in their eyes."

No one felt more pain then Mehmet. It wasn't just that his daughter's purity was destroyed, but that she was scorned for a crime she was a victim of.

"We decided it was best to leave Turkey for a while. My father secured a vessel and we set off on a trade expedition. It would be the last one we ever did."

* * *

The Amere's made several stops along their journey. For the first time, Sabine and Nefaltia saw what lay beyond the Turkish shores. In the past, Mehmed would leave his daughters with family when he went along the long journeys.

Along the way they bartered and traded in the Greek Islands, in Egypt, and in Sicily. Soon the humble Turkish vessel was well stocked with Persian cumin, sage, mustards, fennel, and saffron.

"We had gotten more than enough supplies to sell in Europe. But then... Something went wrong."

Something certainly had. Angry clouds gathered in the sky, creating a mighty storm. What had once been a tranquil plane of blue was now a roiling cauldron. And the ship was caught right in the crossfire.

While the storm raged outside, the Amere's huddled in their tiny cabin. But even inside the ship the sisters still felt the sea's fury.

"I never felt more sick in my life" said Nefaltia. "But Sabine had it the worst. I had to get her some air."

Poor Sabine lay heavily against the wall. Her newborn daughter too weak to cry. It took every ounce of strength for Nefaltia to raise her suffering sibling to her feet.

Once outside the sisters and the infant were bombarded by the maelstrom. The ship's mast swayed precariously in the gales, while the wooden deck was awash in rain.

Nefaltia struggled to hold back even more tears as she remembered what came next.

"This wave just came out of nowhere. I tried to hold onto Sabine, but we were washed overboard. I don't remember much of what happened next. Only that I regained consciousness on a French shore. Alone."

"But how did you get to Paris?" asked Quasimodo

"I got picked up by a gypsy caravan. They told me all about the Court of Miracles, so I decided to settle there with them."

As Nefaltia sat brimming with turbulent memories, a sad smile found its way to her henna-colored lips.

"I just cant believe it. Out of all the children in the world... This little beast is part of my sister."


	8. Chapter 8

Full of determination, Nefaltia focused all her energy on getting Anatefka to talk. But it was an uphill battle for both of them. In all the years spent living in the wild, Anatefka had forgotten what speech even was. The only way she knew to express herself were through awkward grunts and hand gestures. Through sheer willpowere on Nefaltia's part, the girl had come to recognise a handful of objects by name. But every attempt to get her to say their names was met with tantrum after tantrum.

"Bell!" Nefaltia would say over and over, placing the child's hand on Big Marie's brass surface. "Say it. Say 'bell'."

Anatefka's lips remained locked. Instead she simply rapped her palms against the bell's side, creating an low, warbling hum. Nefaltia repeated the word over and over again, but the girl quickly tired of her demands and she went off to chase pidgeons on the balcony.

Nefaltia did not bother to go after her. Her heart was broken.

* * *

"Nefaltia, can I talk to you for a minute?" Quasimodo politely requested.

The herbalist left Anatefka to play.

"You're tutoring her very well" he said, trying to raise her spirits. "She's definitly improving."

Nefaltia had to admit it. When she wasn't throwing a fit Anatefka had shown improvment. Her prickly nature softened.

Though Anatefka still ate with her hands, she developed a primitve understanding of table manners. She took small bites instead of just wolfing her food down, and no longer licked the plate clean.

The child had shown Nefaltia and Quasimodo her unflinching cleverness. But even when tamed she was still wild. Day after day the herbalist watched her grungy little neice play her savage games, trying her hardest to keep away the gnawing feeling of hoplesness. But it always returned to her in the night when the only thing to do was recall the day's activities.

So Anatefka had lost some of her ferocity. So she learned some new tricks.

"I know you understand me a little" Nefaltia would say to her charge. "You look at me when I talk to you. Your mind is clear. But I need you to show me. Give me a sign. Anything! I need to know that you understand me."

But Anatefka remained wordless. She simply stood with her head cocked to the side before returning to her feral playthings. Nefaltia could only sigh in defeat.

The little beast was only the shell of the neice she lost so long ago. Nefaltia had pinned all her hopes on getting Anatefka to talk. To tell her how she was her family, and have her understand it.

"How can I tell her 'I love you' when I cant even reach her?" Nefaltia sobbed to the bellringer.

Quasimodo comforted the woman as best he could.

"Just give her more time. I mean, look how much she's learned so far.

"No! I cant do it!" snapped Nefaltia. "I cant keep lying to myself anymore. My little Sadira is never coming back."

* * *

The next morning, the sun was swallowed up before it had a chance to shine. The overcast dawn bathed Paris in a dim foggy light. It was exactly how poor Nefaltia felt inside. When she would look at the sleeping Anatefka it was as though she had lost her dear sister all over again. As the herbalist packed her belongings, her insides felt heavy and dead. She just wanted to get back to the Court before any goodbyes could be said. Perhaps in time Nefaltia would even forget what she had tried to accomplish in the tower.

She made not a sound as crept down the tower's winding stair case. Nefaltia would have cried, but there were no more tears left.

* * *

The cathedral's nave was like a great shadowy cave with shafts light pouring through it's many facetted windows. In the all consuming silence, Nefaltia found herself staring at the rose window above the three portals. Her mind was stagnent, yet it continued to race. She did not notice the little creature behind her.

Gently Anatefka pawed at Nefaltia's skirt. Ther herbalist glanced at the child with empty eyes before continuing on her way.

Anatefka would not be ignored. She bound after the woman, grunting plaintifly for her attention. But Nefaltia did not answer her.

_**"N-n-nnnnnoooooo!!"**_

The young woman's heart stopped dead in her chest. The strap of her rucksack slid down her shoulder and fell to the floor. Slowly she turned around to face the little imp standing behind her.

"What did you say?" Nefaltia rasped.

Her brow furrowed in concentration, Anatefka's lips and jaw quivered as she struggled to make the desired sounds.

"N-nnoo g-g-go"

By now Nefaltia had lowered herself on one knee. Her hands clutching Anatefka's shoulders.

"No go?" she asked. "You... you want me to stay?"

Nefaltia made sweeping gestures to illustrate was "stay" ment, but Anatefka quickly caught on.

"Stay!" the girl chirped. "Stay! Stay!"

The tears that dispair had dried up came back with a vengence! Nefaltia scooped Anatefka in her arms, covering the little girl in kisses.

"You can speak!" she sobbed "You understand!"

Her sorrow shattered into a million peices. In its place a radient light of hope and joy burst fourth. Forgetting her belongings Nefaltia raced back up the stairs still holding onto the child.

She just had to show Quasimodo!


End file.
